Pranking Hogwarts
by GreenSunset
Summary: Harry Potter grows up in a happy environment, which changes everything. He's not a scared little boy like Dumbledore expected him to be, but a confident prankster who's determined to stir things up at Hogwarts.
1. The Detention Game

_**I wrote this a while back on a different account and decided to move the story over here.**_

* * *

_**I don't like moody Harry, so I made a happy, pranking one.**_

_**I apologize ahead of time for any mistakes.**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing... except for the random people with unfamiliar names that won't be in the story for long anyway.**_

_**...**_

The chocolate muffin danced gleefully in front of Dudley's face as Harry tied his cousin up. The pair was happy. Harry wouldn't have to search for his brand new computer game when he got home, and the muffin wouldn't get eaten. It worked out perfectly for the two of them.

"Don't I look absolutely delicious, Dudley? So chocolaty and yummy," the muffin laughed evilly as Dudley struggled in his confines. "I bet I taste wonderful – and guess what? I'm still warm! Fresh out of the oven. Too bad you can't eat me." The muffin spun around and wiggled his butt in the boy's face.

Harry watched him dance with a growing fear. He didn't have a very big breakfast this morning. His aunt Petunia had rushed him and his cousin out of the house, convinced they would be late if they didn't leave that instant, so all he managed to grab was a single slice of toast. "Um, muffin...?"

The muffin ignored him, his chocolate chip eyes wide and evil as he continued to enjoy the look of hunger grow on Dudley's face. "I bet I taste like a brownie or a cake. I wouldn't really know, you see. I'm not a cannibal. But sometimes you can just tell these things, you know? Like when you look in the mirror and think to yourself, "Wow, I look absolutely delicious." Then you just know you probably taste amazing, and you _almost_ feel bad for the unfortunate boy who would never truly know the deliciousness that is a chocolate chip muff-"

Harry snatched up the muffin and took a great big bite out of its side. Or tried to, that is.

"Ouch!" a voice cried out suddenly. The muffin tried to wiggle free from his mouth, so Harry clamped his teeth down harder. "Oooow! Mrs. Ramond, Harry's _biting_ me!"

"Potter!"

"He won't let go! Help! He's going to eat me! I'm gonna die!"

"Potter!" There was a sharp smack to the back of his head. Harry groggily blinked his eyes a few times as he rubbed the sore spot. There was something in his mouth, he noticed almost instantly, and it was definitely not a chocolate muffin. He spit it out in disgust.

"You bit me!" The boy who sat beside him, Jerald, yelled angrily, his voice a higher pitch than usual.

"Yeah, and you taste horrible," admitted Harry before he desperately began wiping at his tongue with his hands. Mrs. Ramond gave him a disapproving look but did nothing to stop him.

"Look what you did!" Jerald cried, sticking his arm out for inspection. There were definitely a set of teeth marks puncturing his pale skin, no doubt about that, and a few smudges of what Harry hoped was dirt. Harry gagged and wiped his tongue more furiously.

"Harry, why did you bite Jerald?" Mrs. Ramond asked patiently, folding her arms across her chest as she waited for an explanation.

Harry stopped touching his tongue when it lacked saliva and got dry. "I wath hungy," he said without closing his mouth all the way, afraid some of the germs were still on his tongue. His aunt made sure both him and Dudley clearly understood the consequences of germs, especially after the two of them were stuck in bed for a week with a fever last year.

"And asleep," the girl who sat directly in front of him added. Harry glanced up to see Silvia Genter, the shortest and youngest girl in the class, staring at him in disgust. He never really liked her. She got some sick joy out of getting him in trouble - not that he minded that, of course. The more detentions the better. However, it was the fact that she told on him, not to help him, but in hopes that something bad would happen to him that made him dislike her.

"I wath _tire'_ an' hungy, I gueth."

"Harry, detention," the young teacher said with a sigh. It was the boy's third detention of the week. Both him and little Austin Meyers seemed to be in a tie for the most detentions given in a single school year. She was beginning to think it was a game between the two boys. One of these days she would have to look up how many detentions the two of them received.

"_Agai'? _Yeth!"

"What? No! Mrs. Ramond, he just got one last period," came Austin's low voice from somewhere in the back of the class.

The teacher silently shook her head. That was all the proof she needed; Harry Potter and Austin Meyers enjoyed getting detentions. Maybe she would start punishing them by making them stay in for lunch instead...

* * *

"Bloody hell, Harry. How'd you come up with somethin' like that?" Austin had to jog to catch up with Harry the minute the bell rang. It was their last class of the day and the two were on their way to detention, like they were every day it seemed.

"Honestly?" Austin nodded eagerly. "I didn't. It was an accident."

Austin swiped some of his long blonde hair out of his eyes and frowned. "That one shouldn't count then," he told Harry quickly as they approached the door to the room detentions were held in. It was a blue door with a small cracked window. Harry thought the crack made the door look mysterious, while Austin argued that it made it look trashy, and Mr. Moe said it added personality. Everybody else on campus were curious about how the crack got there in the first place, but Harry, Austin, and Mr. Moe kept their lips tightly sealed on that one.

Harry opened the door as he replied, "Yeah, it should. The rules clearly state that we can't do the same stunt more than twice and have that detention count. It doesn't say anything about accidentally getting a detention doing something neither of us ever thought of doing," he explained as he entered the room with Austin sulking behind him.

"Hello again, boys. You know where to sit," Mr. Moe, a white-haired man with bad eye-sight, told the two without glancing away from his magazine. "And Austin, please don't make faces at Harry's back. One of these days your face will get stuck like that."

"How does he do that?" Austin mumbled as he walked to the back of the room, passing three other bored-looking students. "He can't read a sign five feet away from him, but he can see things without looking up..."

"It's called magic," the man stated with a roll of his eyes.

Harry sat at his seat in the front of the class. "Or maybe he has another set of eyes on his forehead," he offered with a shrug.

"No talking."

"Sorry, Moe," said Harry.

They spent the next thirty minutes in silence. Harry made weird doodles on his paper, Mr. Moe read his magazine, Austin took a short nap, and Harry didn't even bother looking at the other students in the class. They weren't regulars, he knew that for sure, otherwise they would have said hi at some point. But no, they were too busy being silent and boring.

Harry was a bit disappointed. Usually when it was just him, Austin, and Mr. Moe, they all played poker or discussed future ideas to get detentions. Mr. Moe refused to do anything while other students were in the room, always telling them how he didn't want to lose his fantastic job for a couple of kids he didn't even really like. Harry knew that was a lie though because anyone with a brain could tell his job wasn't fantastic.

At some point Mr. Moe tossed Harry a green marker without looking up. It slid across his desk and landed in his lap.

"Oh, what do you know. It seems I have to use the restroom." Mr. Moe stood up, stretched his arms over his head, and ruffled his white hair a bit, a trait he unconsciously picked up from Harry. "If you'll excuse me," he whispered quietly to the class, winking quickly at Harry. "You're in charge." Harry got the hint.

The minute the adult left the room, Harry was out of his seat and tip-toeing to the back of the room, marker in hand. The other three kids, two boys and a girl, watched him curiously.

Luckily for him, half of Austin's face was exposed as his head rested on his folded arms. Harry carefully pressed the marker to Austin's cheek, freezing for a second to make sure Austin didn't wake up, before drawing half a mustache and a dozen freckles, and on his forehead he drew a stylish lightning bolt, identical to the one on his own forehead. It was his signature.

Harry took a small step back to admire his handiwork. He tilted his head to the side and tapped his chin silently before making a face. Not his best work, but it would have to do.

Before Mr. Moe could come back, Harry ran to the front of the room, returned the marker, and then hopped over the desk to his chair.

"Smooth," one of the older boys commented. "You one of the kids that always plays pranks to get detentions?"

Harry nodded proudly, puffing out his chest dramatically. "That would be me."

"I've heard about you," a tall, stick-thin girl with frizzy blonde hair mentioned. "The teachers were complaining about how they couldn't stop you and some other kid because it was just a big game to you, or something like that."

"No one invited you to take part in this conversation, Erika," the older boy snarled.

"Shut up! I wasn't talking to you."

The other boy remained silent, glaring at the two. The three of them obviously had issues.

"No fighting," was the first thing Mr. Moe said as he entered the class. "You guys only have ten minutes left, fight on your own time."

Such wise words, Harry couldn't help but think.

Ten minutes later, the five troublesome students exited the room.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Moe!" Harry shouted, echoed a second later by Austin.

"You two stay out of trouble!"

The two friends laughed at the mere thought. Instead of running from the trouble that constantly followed Harry, the ten-year-old wisely chose to embrace it. Sure, it caused more problems for those closest to him, but it was an easier way of life. He wasn't always on his toes waiting nervously for the next thing to go wrong. Instead, _he_ was the cause of the chaos. _He _was in control. It made everything more exciting. But his Aunt also made sure he thought ahead before going through with his stupid stunts. That's not to say that he always did...

"Are you walkin' home today?" Austin asked curiously as they walked towards the entrance of their school, still unaware of the ink on half of his face.

"Maybe," Harry replied honestly. "Aunt Petunia said that if I don't stop getting detentions, then she won't bother to pick me up anymore."

"That sucks."

"Not for me," smirked Harry suddenly.

Austin froze, quickly catching on. "Nuh-uh!" he said, shaking his head violently, his blonde hair whipping back and forth. "No way. You remember what happened last time you got a ride home with me, Harry! I think my dad still holds a grudge, and that was months ago! Have you noticed that he hasn't offered you a ride since then?"

Flashes of the incident played in his head, causing Harry to wince slightly. "But that wasn't my fault!" He exclaimed defensively, if somewhat a bit guiltily. "Your dad wasn't supposed to open the present until he got home."

"Yeah, well, my dad isn't the most patient guy."

"I didn't know, okay?"

"Just try tellin' my dad that."

Harry pushed open the front door of the school and hopped down a few steps. His aunt's car was nowhere to be seen. Darn. He glanced at his friend before grimacing and looking away quickly.

"What?" Austin asked curiously, having caught the grimace.

"Nothing," Harry answered smoothly. He looked around casually. "You know what, I think I'm going to walk home after all. It's such a beautiful day, don't you think?"

Austin glanced up at the cloudless sky. "Uh-huh," he lied.

It was a hot day, Harry knew that. He would be sweating by the time he rounded the corner. But, it was definitely better than facing both Mr. Meyers and his son, especially when Austin realized what was on his face. He was just glad his aunt chose a house only five blocks away from the school.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." Austin was obviously trying to get rid of him before he could change his mind. Harry would go along with it this once, but for his own selfish reasons; he wasn't ready to face Austin's wrath.

"Later." And with that they went their separate ways: Austin, to wait for his dad on the steps in front of the school, and Harry, resisting the urge to start running, beginning his hot walk to Privet Drive.

Harry rounded the corner just as he heard a car pull up in front of the school. His eyes widened dramatically, and he turned his fast walk into a full-blown sprint.

"HARRY!"

He chuckled breathlessly, still running. Austin was no doubt told about the markings on his face. He could just imagine the look on his face...

By the time he made it home, he was dripping with sweat. His shirt was glued to his back like a second skin and his bangs stuck to his forehead. He threw open the front door, kicked off his shoes in a rush, and ran to the kitchen. His first stop was the faucet. He turned it on cold and stuck his head under the flowing water without a second thought, not even pausing to take off his glasses. He stayed under the spray until he felt like his bright red face had dulled to a light pink.

Never again, he swore to himself. For the next few days he was getting a ride home from _someone, _even if that meant he had to be strapped to the top of their car.

When he was done, he turned the faucet off and wiped his eyes beneath his glasses, only to see his amused aunt sitting at the table. He was guessing she saw everything.

"How was your day?" She asked, her thin lips turning up at the corners in a small smile.

Harry shrugged casually, acting as if this was a daily occurrence. "Eh, the same as usual."

"Do you have a lot of homework?" She asked, standing up from the table. She asked this every day out of habit, even if she knew the answer.

Harry shrugged again, carelessly this time. "I don't think so. Nobody really does anything the last few days of school."

Aunt Petunia walked past Harry as she headed towards the refrigerator. "Well, I was thinking steak for dinner. What do you say?"

Harry's eyes lit up. His aunt made the best steak.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Duh."

"Shush, you," Aunt Petunia chuckled. "And get out of my kitchen. I'll call you and Dudley when dinner's ready."

"Yes, sir!"

Petunia watched her nephew skip merrily out of the room with a sad smile. Ever since her Vernon died six years ago, she could no longer find it in her heart to be cruel to the boy. It was as if fate was trying to tell her something, yell at her. The boy was most likely a wizard, but he was also just like any other kid. And he had so much of Lily in him; he had more than just her eyes.

The truth was, Petunia missed her sister dearly. She was older now, more mature, and she understood how wrong it was of her to treat her sister as she had. Had Lily not been a normal human being in Petunia's eyes minutes before she got her letter? It was jealousy, Petunia concluded. Jealousy ruined her relationship with her only sister, and jealousy helped kill her.

Everything changed when Vernon died. He was the last straw. She was sick of her family dying; her parents, her sister, her brother-in-law, her husband, and her only aunt. It was just her, Dudley and Harry now, and together they would survive. They would be one small happy family, whether or not Harry got his Hogwarts letter.

...

**_If you people want to see more of Happy Harry, review. You review mine, I review yours... I'm not trying to bribe you, honestly. I'm just _****so ****_bored. I need a life. And one of those Cadbury Eggs, or whatever those things are called. But I think that life thing is slightly more important._**

_**I kinda rushed through this chapter a bit, sorry. I'm just excited to get to Hogwarts, and for Harry to meet all the people there.**_


	2. Dudley and a Letter

_**I'll go back and edit this eventually. But, in the meantime, here's another chapter. **_

* * *

"Dudley, Dudders, Dee Dee—"

"Go away. I _told _you I don't have it."

"—Darling, Big D, Didley, Dookums—"

"Now you're just being ridiculous, Harry," commented Dudley without looking away from the TV screen as the character he was playing jumped over a monster, but Harry didn't stop.

"—Snookums, Doodee, Poopee Face—"

"What's the point of whatever you're trying to do?" Dudley's fingers started moving furiously on the controller. "C'mon, c'mon—dang it!" He threw down his controller in defeat. "I was so close..." he muttered angrily. With a sigh, he then turned to his next source of entertainment: Harry, his annoying cousin.

"—Snickers, Manly Woman, Feminine Guy, Ugly Dougly, Big Guy – Dudley, could you just tell me where my game is? I'm running out of names here, in case you hadn't noticed," said Harry in exasperation. He didn't want to throw in too many fat comments since he knew his cousin was still sensitive when it came to his weight. Even though he had lost a lot over the last few years, he was still a rather large boy, about 5 sizes larger than Harry. It was in his genes, Harry knew. From what he could remember of his uncle, he had been more of a whale than a man.

"Oh, I noticed," Dudley smirked.

Harry glared. "Dudley..."

Dudley glared back, a nasty smirk still on his face. "I. Don't. Have. It."

Harry dropped his glare and sighed loudly in feigned disappointment. "I didn't want to have to do this, but you've left me no choice... AUNT PETUNIA!"

Dudley's eyes widened fearfully and Harry smiled. Good. He would be getting answers now.

"Ha—rry," he whined. "Why'd you have to drag mum into this?"

"It's not my fault you won't tell me where my game is."

"And it's not my fault you never believe me."

"That's only because you're always lying."

"...that might be true, but I'm telling the truth this time, I swear!"

Aunt Petunia poked her head in the living room where the two boys were arguing. "What happened?"

Harry pointed his finger at Dudley. "He took my computer game!"

"Did not!"

Aunt Petunia shook her head and rubbed a hand over her face tiredly. "Why don't the two of you go outside, get some Vitamin D, maybe some exercise...?" Harry knew that she, too, was hesitant to bring up her son's weight.

The two boys looked at each other in horror and then back at Petunia like she was crazy.

"It's, like, a hundred degrees outside!" Dudley finally exclaimed. It wasn't, of course, but it was rather humid.

"So?" she snapped. "That never stopped Lily and me."

"Well, you and mum were insane," Harry explained as if it were obvious, but upon seeing the look on her face, he knew it had been the wrong thing to say. "No offense!" He hastily added, but it was too late. The damage was done.

Aunt Petunia's lips thinned. "That's it. Out, both of you."

"What?"

"Aunt Petunia—"

"You can't do this!"

"I don't want to hear it. If Lily and I could do it, then you two can, too. Now - out!" She ushered them out of the living room and then out of the house, ignoring their protests as they went. The door slammed shut behind them, and Harry swore he heard her both lock the door _and_ drag a chair from the kitchen to lodge under the doorknob.

"This is all your fault," Dudley grumbled five minutes later as the two boys mindlessly walked around their neighborhood under the blazing sun.

"My fault? You're the one who wouldn't tell—"

"Oh, would you stop going on about your stupid game. It's in your room."

"Really?" asked Harry in disbelief.

"Yeah, and I could be in _my _room playing on my computer right now if it weren't for you."

Suddenly, Harry stopped walking. "What'd you do to it?" He asked suspiciously.

"What?" Dudley, who had stopped walking as well, turned to look at Harry questioningly.

"To my game. What'd you do to it?" Harry repeated.

"Oh, that..."

"Yes, that." Harry took a threatening step forward. "Dudley..."

Dudley fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "...I might've maybe sat on it. Maybe." Dudley looked down sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

Harry's mouth dropped open in horror. "Dudley!"

"What? It was an accident, I swear!" He turned away and started crossing the street. "At least I'm telling you about it now," Harry heard him mutter bitterly.

"Yeah, a bit too late though," said Harry loudly, as he jogged to catch up with him and began walking by his side. "If you had just told me in the first place we wouldn't be out here getting sunburns." Harry held out his arm. "Look at this; I'm as red as a tomato." Dudley didn't look, but Harry didn't mind because he wasn't actually red.

"Whatever." Dudley kicked at a rock. "What are we going to do now?"

Harry dropped his arm and stared at his cousin for several seconds. He wanted to tell Dudley that he owed him a new game because Harry had bought the broken one with his own money, but he let it go and sighed noisily. "I don't know. Walk," Harry suggested with a half-shrug.

They did just that.

Together, they headed towards the neighborhood park in an unspoken agreement. Harry could tell something was bothering Dudley, and he had a feeling it had to do with his game. It couldn't be the game itself, he knew that for a fact, because Dudley had broken plenty of his games over the years and never so much as blinked an eye. It had to be something else.

He observed his cousin from his peripheral view. The boy was glaring down at his trainers with his fists clenched tightly by his sides. Obviously Harry would have to act quickly.

Harry pushed Dudley gently. The other boy's head jerked up, his glare now directed at Harry. Smiling cheekily, Harry pushed him again, harder this time, and his cousin stumbled to the left.

"Hey!" exclaimed Dudley, catching his footing. His arm shot out towards Harry, but the other boy was too quick and darted out of the way. "I'm gonna get you for that, Harry."

Laughing, Harry poked Dudley in the stomach, and then immediately jumped backward to avoid another fist. Dudley's knuckles grazed him that time.

Dudley's blue eyes narrowed in determination.

"Catch me if you can!" called Harry as he took off running towards the park, Dudley hot on his heels. Fighting, Harry knew, always cheered his cousin up. When they got home, Harry would tell his aunt that she should put Dudley in a karate or wrestling class.

Ten minutes later, the two boys were out of breath and exhausted.

"I think..._"_ panted Harry as he dropped to the grassy floor beneath a tree face-first, groaned, and then rolled on his back, "I think I just died a little... "

Dudley plopped down next to him, sweat dripping down his face. "I'm right there with you," he said miserably.

Harry threw his arm over his face and groaned again. "Make that a lot. I died a lot."

"Excellent," said a familiar voice. "Then that means I won this year's Detention Game."

Harry shot up quickly, before moaning loudly as his vision grew fuzzy and his head spun. "Too fast, too fast," he said as he held out a hand to steady himself. When his vision cleared, he saw Austin grinning back at him.

"Hey, Hair," said the shorter blonde boy. He then nodded towards Dudley. "Hey, Dud."

Dudley moaned loudly in greeting.

The two friends caught each other up on the past few days since summer vacation had started. Austin had been at his uncle's house since day one, cleaning the man's house and taking care of his three dogs while he was on vacation in the States. Harry, however, had been lazing about at home with Dudley, doing the occasional chore here and there.

"What are you doing here anyway?" asked Harry. Dudley was dozing off under the tree several feet away from them. Or maybe he was dying, Harry wasn't completely sure.

Dudley had never had any interest in taking part in Harry and Austin's "shenanigans," as Aunt Petunia liked to call them. And although Harry liked his cousin well enough, he had to admit that he never wanted him to participate in their "Detention Game" either. It wasn't that Dudley was stupid... He just had trouble being creative. Harry didn't blame him for that though. Dudley had once told him that his memory of his dad was fuzzy, but he would always remember the man's dislike of imagination and creativity. Harry understood what Dudley wasn't saying; He wanted to make his dead parent proud, and being in Harry's little "gang" was going against what he knew his dad would have wanted.

Harry could definitely relate. After his aunt had told him about how kind, hardworking, and determined his mother had been, he yearned to be just that to make her happy. That resulted in him being bumped up a grade when he was six, which then led him to meet his current best friend. And when his aunt told him that his dad had been very mischievous, the "Detention Game" was formed with said best friend.

"I'm here with my dad and little brother," Austin answered. "We stopped at your house first to see if I could hang out there, but your Aunt said she kicked you two out for the day. She looked pretty paranoid. Did you know she had a chair up against the door?"

"I knew it!"

The two laughed and joked before getting down to business.

"The teachers are already on to us," said Harry, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"We've only been going there for a year, too." Austin sighed sadly, pulling a few blades of grass out of the ground. "What d'you reckon they'll do?"

"I don't know... Stop giving us detentions, probably."

"Yeah," agreed Austin. "And then Moe would die of boredom because we wouldn't be gettin' detentions all the time, and with Moe dead, the school wouldn't be able to function properly, and with the school goin' all crazy, the principal would have no choice but to shut it down, and if they shut it down, then... then..."

"Then the world would explode?" suggested Harry.

"Exactly!" exclaimed Austin. "And we can't let that happen."

"Why not?"

Ignoring him, Austin said, "How 'bout we change the rules a bit?"

"I was actually thinking the same thing."

And so, the two boys discussed their game while Dudley slept on a particularly comfortable patch of grass.

* * *

Petunia sat at the kitchen table with a thick envelope in her trembling hands. She knew this day would come, but it had crept up on her so fast. Had it really been ten years since her sister died?

She stared blankly at the wall in front of her. Harry would be so upset with her, she knew, for not telling him about his... _magical_ abilities sooner. Sure, like Lily_, _he had his share of _accidental magic_, as her sister had once called it, but it hadn't happened lately. When he was younger, he had made toys float to him as a baby, turned his teacher's hair blue after receiving a C on a test, and had even blown up Dudley's telly once. He had come crying to her when the last two events happened, and she had given him logical explanations for each occurrence. Yes, she felt guilty for lying to him, but she hadn't been ready to tell him the truth.

Maybe she had been selfish.

Her finger traced over the neatly written address on the envelope. As a little girl, she had once dreamed of receiving this exact letter - she had even written a polite letter to the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, begging him to let her go to Hogwarts, too, but he had let her down gently, explaining to her that she wasn't a witch and therefore could not go. She had been crushed.

"Hey, Aunt Petunia," said Harry as he casually walked into the room.

"Oh!" Petunia bolted from her seat, the chair crashing to the floor behind her, and held her hand up to her chest. "Harry, dear, I wasn't expecting you."

"I noticed," he snickered. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the envelope she had thoughtlessly brought up to her chest in her shock.

She looked down at the letter nervously. "Never you mind that," she said, casually hiding it behind her back. Harry looked at her curiously. "How did you get in?"

Harry grinned smugly. "Magic," he answered simply.

Truth was, Aunt Petunia had left several windows open for some airflow, and both he and Dudley were able to crawl through one. Dudley was now up in his room playing on his computer like he had wanted. Harry, being the good nephew that he was, had stopped by the kitchen to let his aunt know they were home.

But he wasn't expecting his aunt to turn white and lean heavily against the counter at the sight of him. Harry stared at his aunt in concern; She looked like she was about ready to pass out.

"Aunt Petunia?" he said uncertainly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes," she answered reassuringly, pushing away from the counter and collapsing into a chair beside the one that had fallen. "I'm perfectly fine." She nodded, as if trying to convince herself.

Harry contemplated whether he should stay or leave while he still could. His aunt was acting strange.

"I think you should sit, dear," suggested Aunt Petunia shakily. "There is something I need to tell you."

Now Harry was sure he should have run when he was given the chance. Aunt Petunia looked serious, and serious was never good.

He sat on the edge of the chair across from her obediently and waited for her to talk. She took her sweet time gathering her thoughts. Just as Harry opened his mouth to ask her if he was in trouble, she dropped the envelope he had noticed earlier on the table and slid it across to him, her gaze glued to it.

Harry glanced down at it in confusion.

It was addressed to "Mr. H. Potter" in emerald-green ink.

He cocked his head to the side as he brought it up for closer inspection. He had never received a letter in the mail before; Usually, letters from his school were addressed to his guardian, Aunt Petunia. But this one was strange.

"There's no return address," Harry stated, flipping it over. "And there's a wax seal, look." He moved to show his aunt the fancy purple seal, but she shook her head.

"I've seen it."

"But-"

"Open it, Harry." He had never seen his aunt look more frightened of a letter before in his life.

Holding it a safe distance away from him in case something decided to jump out at him (it had happened before), Harry tore open the envelope, letting a thick parchment fall out. Once he was sure the letter wouldn't explode in his face unexpectedly, he unfolded it hastily and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE  
_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_  
_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  
Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,  
_Deputy Headmistress_

* * *

_**Yep. So he got his letter, meaning Austin and Dudley won't be in the story for much longer (sads). And I'm sorry this chapter is so rushed. One day, I'll go back and fix up everything. **_

_**Please review and tell me what you think so far, or you could even tell me what you think should happen next. Who do you think Harry should be friends with at Hogwarts? Which house do you think he should be in? ...seriously, I need your help.**_


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